


Promise Me

by kaycrow



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Theon Greyjoy Lives, because s8 sucks donkey ass, season 8 AU, the happy ending my babies deserved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 02:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20323675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaycrow/pseuds/kaycrow
Summary: Theon survives. That's it.





	Promise Me

**Author's Note:**

> After 8x03 my depression hit me like a brick, and I wrote this. I posted it on Tumblr, and now I've decided to post it here. It's simple, but I've never had written anything Got related. Also, english is not my first language, but still I hope you all enjoy!

Theon was giving his life for his home, for his family. He knew it and he had accepted it, as he laid on the cold ground, bleeding to death. He felt shivers ran through his body, although he wasn’t sure if it was the coldness of the snow against his still warm body, or his flesh trying to fight the inevitable. He knew that it was only a matter of time for him to give in to the numbness and close his eyes shut. Forever.

And Theon had accepted it. Because although he hadn’t grown old, married or fathered children, nor even become the King of the Iron Islands, as he once dare to take for granted, he knew he had died for a higher purpose.

He would die for his family, the Starks, and as he awaited Death, under the Weirwood, he waited with a smile upon his lips and the image of his Lady on his mind.

***

Theon felt a set of cold fingers entwining with his. He had never thought before of what to expect from the afterlife, but he doubted he was supposed to feel like he did.

Theon felt alive.

His upper body was sending him ripples of pain everywhere, reminding him of the exact spot of his flesh where the Night King’s spear had pierced through. The pain was starting to intensify, which probably meant he had been on the milk of the poppy and its action was seizing.

He could hear the crackling sounds of the wood burning in the fire place, and the distant voices of busy people roaming around the yard. He could feel the warmth the fire irradiated on his cheeks, and he comforting furs that shielded his naked torso from the cold air.

Theon stood quiet with his eyes closed, warming up the hand that had taken hold of his. 

He was afraid of opening his eyes and it all be gone. Maybe it was all on his mind. Maybe he was still laying on snow in the Godswoods, or worse, maybe he was already rotting somewhere.

A sharp pain laced through his side, making his muscles jerk in response.

“Theon?”

Her voice called him, sweeter than any wine he had ever tasted, a lullaby to envy all gods.

He opened his eyes slowly, giving them time to adjust to the bright light coming from the window. His chest was rising and falling at an uncontrollable pace, as her figure was becoming clearer. The autumn auburn hair was tied in a loose braid, with a few strings of hair roaming freely. Her porcelain skin glowed at the morning light, and her blue eyes remind him of the deep sea, and he swore at that moment he could drown in them.

“My lady...” Theon said, as he tried to sit up, but Sansa sat the palm of her free hand openly on his chest, pushing him down.

“Save your strengths Theon, you need to lie still” she said with a smile, and as he did she sat back into her chair at his bedside “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright” he simply replied, trying to advert his gaze from hers. She was still holding his hand.

“I’ll ask Maester Wolkan to give you something for the pain” she squeezed it gently “I just wanted to be here for when you wake up”

“Is Bran...?” 

“Bran’s alright, and the Night King was defeated. Arya killed him.” she added, proudly “Thanks to you”

“I vowed to defend Winterfell and the Starks until my last day” his voice was low and raspy, uncertain “I would’ve given my life for you”

Sansa opened slightly her mouth, but said nothing. She pursed her lips and smiled lovingly, a sheepish smile that burned through her cheeks and reached her eyes

“I’m glad you didn’t”

Sansa needed to attend to her obligations, Theon noticed, and yet she hesitated before relenting the hold of his hand, and the second she did so he immediately realized how much he had coveted her touch. She walked towards the door, stopping at its entrance and glancing once more at him, sending him one last gracious smile before she headed out.

***

Theon walked slowly through the snow, leaning on the embellished cane Maester Wolkan had provided for him. Steady and slow steps, the man had said, you don’t want to open the wound again. 

He entered the Godswood not looking to pray. 

He rose his eyes towards the bright white sky, taking pleasure in the cold breeze that grazed his skin, and loosen his curls from his face.

The Weirwood tree stood exalted at the heart of the garden, its deep red foliage in contrast with the pure white snow, and leaning against its trunk stood Sansa, an envy to all the thrones in the Seven Kingdoms and beyond.

"What are you doing up, Theon?” Sansa questioned astonished, rushing to his side.

“Maester Wolkan said I could come to pray if I was careful” Theon replied, as they met halfway through.

Sansa wrapped up both her arms around his waist as he sat his free arm around her shoulders, leaning on her for support. Although he had taken his time with the walk, it still had taken its toll.

“You don’t pray” Sansa added as a matter of fact, smirking and staring into his eyes

“Maybe I should” he replied, looking deeply into hers “They seem to be wager on me lately”

Sansa smiled at his remark, and both stood still afterwards, simply exchanging smiles and stares. His heart throbbed on his chest, nearly bursting out through his ribcage. Theon wondered if Sansa could feel his heartbeat on the palm of her hand, or if she was oblivious to the meaning behind his shy smile and soft stare.

Sansa exhaled sharply, and Theon couldn’t help but to shift his focus to her lips. They looked plumped and flushed from the cold air, and he wanted nothing more in his life than to taste them.

Suddenly, Sansa rose her hand, cupping Theons back of his neck and pulling his face down to meet hers, as she closed her eyes and buried her lips on his. She tasted like sweet and honey and better than anything he had ever tasted before.

Theon closed his eyes and savored her lips, deepening the kiss. It was now fire and flames, as he lowered his hand from her shoulder to her back, pulling her close to him. Her hand was entangled in his curls and their chests were against each other, beating uncontrollably and uncoordinated, and both can barely breathe.

Sansa pulls back, bringing her hand away from his hair down to his chest, putting space between them.

“Promise me you’ll stay, Theon. I need you to promise me here, on this sacred ground, you’ll stay by my side not to fight or die for me, but to accept my heart, and give me yours in return” Sansa leaned her forehead against his and closed her eyes “I have never truly felt loved before, so I want you to promise you’ll stay and loved me until your last day, as will I to you”

Theon closed his eyes and smiled. Not even the gods themselves would dare to drive him away from her now “I promise”

**Author's Note:**

> Now, if you enjoyed it, here's the big surprise…. I have a multi-chapter fic coming up! 
> 
> "What if Sansa came home to marry Theon instead of Ramsay? Season 5 AU"
> 
> So, just follow my tumblr for updates!


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